


Monster Race

by pprfaith



Series: Wishlist 2014 [6]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Betrayal, Community: wishlist_fic, Discovery, Gen, Prompt Fic, Violence, poor boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:32:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pprfaith/pseuds/pprfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Raleigh is bad at being Brian and Chuck is pretty decent at being Dom (and the title is completely useless).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Race

**Author's Note:**

> Jedibuttercup asked for PacRim/FatF – reverse fusion. 
> 
> I did my best, but it's still shortish and the boys get hurt, because the boys always get hurt. Forgive me?

+

“Did you think we wouldn’t figure it out, _Raleigh_?” Chuck asks, voice dripping as much menace as the tire iron he keeps idly swinging in one hand. 

Raleigh, slumped on the ground, holding his bloody nose, watches him carefully. The last person to hurt anyone Chuck cared about is still in a coma. The caution, he thinks, is warranted. 

“Did you really think you’d get away with it? Gain our trust,” – he sounds like he wants to say ‘my’ instead – “fuck us over and then go back to being a good little copper? That we wouldn’t…,” he points the makeshift weapon at Raleigh, shoulders tight with rage. “I should fucking kill you! I should-“

Raleigh almost did get away with it, that’s the thing. He did gain their – Chuck’s – trust. That’s why he’s not dead or bleeding out, why Chuck is screaming at him instead of beating the shit out of him, the way he did the man that killed his father. 

That’s why this hurts.

It was supposed to be easy. Raleigh has the skills to work UC in the racing scene, has the lingo, the tricks, the past that matches this job. Hell, he even has the rap sheet. 

It was supposed to be easy. 

Instead it was fucking hard, so hard, because these are _his people_ , more than the force is, these days. Since Yancy…. Chuck and his crew didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to send him to the shrink. They didn’t dig, didn’t pry. They appreciated his driving and his ability to get out of a tight spot and that was enough for them. 

They were good to him. 

Alexis and Sasha taught him things about an engine even he didn’t know, yet, and Newt stripped down to his boxers to explain each and every one of his tattoos willingly after an idle question from Raleigh. Hermann grumped at him horribly, but he does that to everyone, so Raleigh smiled and nodded and gave back as good as he got. Mako talked to him for hours, about all kinds of things, science and literature and those mangas they both secretly love, about the aliens and the robots. 

And Chuck. 

But then Newt’s contact finally came through and now…

By morning, Raleigh will be either dead, or back at the precinct to face his abject failure. He hopes it’s the second, prays it is, because if Chuck kills him, there’ll be no end to hunting him. Them. 

The entire Hansen clan will be hunted down like dogs if they kill a cop, even one as disgraced as Raleigh. He’d rather go back and face Pentecost with the news that he didn’t manage to get his daughter out, much less take down the crew she’s chosen to run with. 

That he didn’t _want_ to take them down. 

Chuck is still screaming, but it’s the same reel, over and over, the same angry, hurt words that are so much less than Raleigh deserves. 

He’s worked UC before, a dozen times, and he never felt guilty about it. Never regretted his actions. It was him and Yancy against the world, the way it always has been and that was good. It was okay. He didn’t need anyone but his brother. Yancy made everything okay. 

But Yancy is dead and now it’s just Raleigh and it figures that he’d fuck up on his own, because of course he would, without Yancy he can’t fucking _function_. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, doesn’t even notice he actually said the words until Chuck stills, staring at him.

“Sorry?!” he snarls. “You’re _sorry_?”

Raleigh nods.

“You think that’s going to cut it?” The tire iron swings threateningly close to Raleigh’s already busted face. 

He shakes his head. “No. I know it doesn’t. But I… I needed to say it anyway. I’m sorry, Chuck. For…”

“For lying? For feeding us all some bullshit story about your fucking brother, buh-huh? Are you sorry that we fucking _believed_ you, you piece of shit pig?!”

“No,” Raleigh says, and for the first time since Chuck sent everyone into the house and unleashed the wrath of god on him, he sounds angry, too. “I didn’t lie about anything but my job. My past, my family, that was all real. Yancy…,” he swallows. “It was bad intel. Our backup wasn’t where it was supposed to be, no-one to bail us out, high risk op, and then he was on the ground, bleeding out and I was…,” he chokes on it. It’s been a year, but he still chokes on it every damn time. 

“I was alone,” he finishes, and he knows it sounds like a pity ploy, but god. God. Yancy. 

He looks down at the grimy garage floor, away from Chuck’s burning gaze. “I followed him. All my life, I followed him. Out of that shit town in Alaska, away from our asshole father. I followed him into the academy and then into the field and suddenly….”

He spreads his hands, palms sticky with his own blood. 

“This, here, with you guys, was the first time I felt… okay, since he died. That was real, Chuck. And I’m… I’m sorry.”

In the wake of his confession, there is silence. Chuck’s endless, angry pacing has stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, Raleigh can see scuffed work boots, darkened by grease in some spots. 

He looks up. 

Chuck is clenching his jaw so tight it might break, eyes narrowed, lips drawn in a thin line. 

After a moment that seems to last forever, he drops the tire iron with a loud crashing sound. Concrete chips fly every which way. 

“You fucker,” the younger man grunts, scrubbing a hand through dirty red hair. “You absolute fucking bastard.”

He kicks at his abandoned weapon, sends it skidding into Raleigh’s shin painfully. 

“Don’t come back,” he says, abruptly, after a long minute of silence and then he turns his back on Raleigh and simply walks away. Walks toward the open bay doors like he didn’t just threaten murder and break Raleigh’s heart in the same damn breath and all Raleigh can see is… it’s Chuck leaving.

It’s that idiot fucking kid with the fast cars and the faster mouth, with the anger and the amazing family, with the dead father and the broken heart and Chuck’s fucked up. He is so fucked up, but he has all the best parts of Yancy, his stubbornness and his pride and his infinite capacity for caring and he gave Raleigh a chance when all he wanted to do was eat his service weapon. 

“What if I lose the badge?” he asks, because he has to, because this isn’t a job, this was _never_ a job, not since Mako smiled and Newt slapped him on the back and Chuck laughed, throaty and dirty, and all of Raleigh’s nightmares stopped to listen. 

Chuck stops, halfway out the door already and Raleigh waits, waits, waits. 

Chuck resumes walking. 

It’s not a no. Good god, it’s not a no.

+


End file.
